


Is This What You Wanted

by propeller



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets, Queens of the Stone Age
Genre: Alternative Lifestyles, Alternative Perspective, Alternative Sexuality, Betrayal, Confusing, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Friendship, Love, M/M, Other, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Romance, Platonic Soulmates, Unrequited Love, alex is bisexual, alex turner bisexual, alex turner was cheating on miles?, bisexual alex turner, ex-boyfriend, josh homme has a heart disease, miles is emotional, miles is jelly, trippy asf, woah big words
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-05 18:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11584110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/propeller/pseuds/propeller
Summary: Miles is Alex's ex-something, but they're both haunted by that one past, and can't seem to go on, or leave it.Spontaneous plane trips to Ohio cause trouble for Alex, and he's forced to return to the only man he's felt a spark towards.Everett, however, doesn't comply with that.(it gets much better as you go on.)A story with tantrums, strange relationships, and lots of smut.





	1. Chapter 1

The temperature of the room was scalding. He scrunches his face up, pulling his collar away from his veined neck.

He could feel his whole body pulse with red. And it wasn't like he could do anything, either. A few beers? Great. Conversable people? Beneficial. A bottle of Bulleit? This party was fucking incredible. None of those were supplied, and it was having quite the effect on him, temperature aside and all.

"Josh." Alex greets, a thin smile coursing over his face. The man in the suit nods. " Aye up, fella. How's you?"  
Deliberate contemplations.  
Was he alright? Or was he about to spurt another lie, to add to the countless?  
  
"Spiffy." Alex licks his dry lips, pulling off his coat.  
Josh Homme winks and saunters off, as if he was weighed with the burden of everyone's deepest secrets.  
  
The economy in this place was a bit rubbish. There were tiny apartments so that there were new encounters, and more endeavours. Something that people could remember.  
  
The wind slaps his face as soon as he steps out, leather boots marking the grainy dirt.  
He catches his own reflection and pushes back his soft hair, eyes red. He was barely sober, even if he hadn't a drop of alcohol in days. But that is what the point is not. Perhaps there was no dire need for alcohol to feel hungover. His stomach seemed to spell out the Dew he had consumed earlier.  
  
Regrets, he had had quite a few. Some of them always crawled out of the sludge and made a return, however. Like how one day, they forgot to do their daily check-up and ended up using a electric drum kit, but it didn't work whilst they were performing. Hence, the show's quality was quite rubbish, but that was mainly because Alex couldn't stop giggling into the microphone, encouraged by Matt's bewilderment.  
  
" _The bloody kickdrum isn't workin'!"_ He had hissed, and messed up Jamie's back vocals, leaving them all off-tune.  
  
It was awfully chilly out here. Didn't they have any of those radiant, outdoor heaters?  
Suddenly, Alex senses movement.

He turns his head lazily, wondering whoever the new visitor could be.  
A flurry of tangled, flamboyant colours. A lime-green scarf, a maroon cardigan, and thigh-highs is the only thing he sees.  
  
The apparent lady takes no notice of him, not even sparing him a look of what she looked like, as she rushes inside the musty building.

"Quite the character." He scratches the back of his neck, before looking away. There was no further excitement, and he decides to retreat, wondering if the gal was worth it. Inside, his eyes search for hers.

The person who caught his attention. His attention wasn't something that was easily passed on. Framed as the dreamy type, he had no other option except for actually act upon it. Alex's attention was sacred, and it wasn't just any type of attention. If he was interested, he'd smile, and meet your eyes constantly. If he was relating, his pupils would twinkle, and a grin would illuminate his features. That having been said, Alex didn't smile genuinely often. Around him, everyone was familiar yet unknown. Everyone overestimated him.  
He wasn't relatively special.

A song-writing genius? _Pft, please. Why don't they all start calling solar-powered houses- the saviour of the Earth as well_? He thinks, rather huffily.

Then, he catches a hold of her. Her eyes were curtained with a pair of quirky glasses, and her brown hair was tied up loosely in a bun. She had a seemingly small smile, yet managed to make Alex halt.  
_Bloody hell._ He realises, his eyes continuing to reveal Josh having a conversation with the woman.

Shameless, he makes his way over. There were some eccentric perks of being labelled as a man with a huge ego. He hid in the pretence like it was a wispy blanket on winter days.

"We didn't quite get to catch-up." Alex comments with a wistful grin. The woman raises her eyebrows, almost in question. Josh Homme offers him a soft smile. "Alex, my favourite man."

They had a connection. They really did. However, with the new band and all that, they barely even exchanged any more words. The introverted personalities of them both had bumped and their wavelength was one long ride.

"Still your favourite, eh?" Alex relaxes, leaning on the door. Josh crinkles his forehead, rolling his eyes. He was a fresh, smooth man. "I beg to differ." Josh responds, just as easily.

The woman laughs, throwing her head back, and shakes her head. "Rather the deceiver, I would think."  
Alex turns his body position so that he seems interested. "Oh yeah?" Alex tilts his head, crossed arms.  
  
"Everett." She announces, holding out a small hand. Alex grips it, giving it a warm squeeze. "Alex. Alex Turner. Delighted to meet you." He offers, politely.  
Everett smiles again, occupying her hand by brushing down her messy hair.  
  
"I'm Josh's best wingman, or wing-woman, although he won't admit it."  
  
Homme shrugs, a careful tease on his lips. "What she actually is, is a co-songwriter and a co-producer. Also, a part-time Netflix enthusiast."  
Everett muffles a mock-groan, shaking her head. "You mean an author." She contradicts.  
  
Josh shrugs again. For a man with seemingly many words, he did that quite often. Turner, meanwhile, stands straighter. " _True Detective_?" Alex questions, lips puckered.  
Everett grins again. "Of course, dude. I don't know anyone who dislikes that show." She rubs an eye, yet manages to keep up the smile.  
  
Alex nods, satisfied. "Spiffy. Although, I'm rather alarmed that you called me 'dude'."

She winks, as her phone rings. The woman holds up a finger and digs through her leather back-pack, pulling out a cell-phone. "I wonder who could be calling." She mutters. Alex wonders why she was so irritated.  
  
"It's 2001, and it wants its vocabulary back." Josh jokes, and Everett spares him a glare. "That was awful, you sod."

Alex's ears perk up once again. She sounded like she was from England.  
Everett holds the technology near her ear, and turns her head away.  
  
"Yes, this is she." Everett frowns, before looking up, puzzled. Alex tries to catch on to her train of thought, but she tilts her gaze away again.

"Thanks, bastard." Her voice drops an octave lower, and her eyes twinkle apologetically towards the men, before she walks away. Alex meets Josh's eyes. "What was that all about?" He asks, and Josh rolls his shoulders, before slinging an arm around Alex.

"Let's get out of this shit." Josh responds, eyes distracted. _Huh_. If Josh wanted secrecy and a change of the topic, Alex couldn't do any more than comply.

Two men leave the building, one with shoulders tensed, and one with a curious look.

\- - -


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perspectives are changed with a quick note saying 'him' or 'her' or even, 'guest'.

\- - - 

her  
\------

You couldn't really plan a disaster. Or get a whiff of the aroma before-hand. Oh, no. It was something you had to be prone to. It could occur at any time. During an exam, when you realise that you were completely off syllabus, or during an entertaining conversation, with the sly chances of meeting a new, attractive man. Now, that man could have eventually developed into a remedy, the chicken soup for Everett. 

A way to forget her ex-boyfriend. 

"No, I will definitely not 'hear' you out. To hell with your effing problems and whatnot. I've tolerated this rubbish for three years. Three fucking years, Mike, and you're saying that I was the worst?" Everett now enrages, face reddened, and ears on fire. 

"We could sort this out. Just like we've always done. I was just a bit loose on cash, but I promise I'm much better now." The other side babbles. To Ever, this was all complete nonsense.

"We've. 'We have'. Notice the past tense, you idiot. Don't even try to pamper me. I'm done with you. Done. D-O-N-E." Everett spits, teeth gritted as she steps on the bus and aggressively scans her ticket. With a stomp of her boots, she takes a seat at the far-end, her tongue automatically hushing her next few words as to not alarm others.

As Mike drones on, she powers off her phone, and fumbles with it as she puts it back into her sling-bag. And then, she is met with brooding silence.

\- - -

him  
\---

A phone call. Alex flips around on his side, briefly squinting at the wall. He's alone. In some hotel suite. He doesn't know.  
His hand reaches out behind him and he locks his gaze at the screen. Unknown. Was it best to answer this? Or could it wait?  
At the last ring, he pushes it towards his ear and grunts an answer. 

"Hey, Alex. This is Everett. Did I wake you up?" 

Alex instantly springs off the bed, rubbing his forehead to clear stress-wrinkles. "Everett. Ah, no. I'm a very organised man." His voice now is gravelly, husky even. Everett laughs. "I'd believe that if that wasn't what I told others." She echoes, her voice muffled. Turner stretches, but smiles. "It is only nine in the morning. You alright?" 

He's dubious, but doesn't ask why she has his number, or how. Perhaps, it's the smile he bought. The one that's still on his lips. 

"I'm great, thanks. Not in my best state, but-" He pauses, messing up his hair and running his hand through the fluffy strands. Everett clears her throat on the other side.  
"Me too. Or is it, 'me either'? These things riddle my mind. Did you know that I was actually going to be named Payton?"

Alex falls back on the bed, taking advantage of the brief luxury. "Depends. Peyton? E or A?"

Everett seems to catch drift of his sentence and groans. "A? Payton. What a strange name." She adds. 

"That is rather peculiar, noticing your personality or whatever. I'd consider calling you something like Pascale, although, it reminds me of soggy marshmallows. Are you relatively like a soggy marshmallow?" Turner coughs.

"Hah! Isn't that a marshmallow brand anyway? I think it means Easter." Everett chirps, making Alex chuckle. "Well, you do have quite the 'spring' in your step." He stands up, picks an outfit, and pulls off the shirt he forgot to wriggle out of yesterday. 

"Noooo. That was distasteful. Your name could be Parker, however." 

They both consider the idea in silence before echoing a disagreement together. "Alexander seems even better." Alex grins, pulling on one of his trademark pairs of skinny jeans. Everett chortles. "Alexander Turner. Who could've thought?" She comments, dryly.  
"Alexander David Turner." Alex corrects, laughing too.

He rarely laughed over the phone. Who would want to laugh over some inanimate, cold object that dug into your ear?  
A sigh escapes Everett's lips, more content than tired. "Well, Alexander, I've got to supposedly leave. Can we-, us-" She licks her lips, unsure of what to say next.

Alex frowns but nods, before realising she can't see. "Go on."  
Everett lets out a small hum, before shrugging on the other side. "Can we do this again? I dare say that you are quite the company." Everett winces, and Alex nods to himself again. 

"Anything you want, Everett." He quirks his lips upwards before pulling on his Vans. 

Everett laughs in courtesy. "Great. Bye, Alex." She doesn't give him a chance to respond, and hangs up. Perhaps she was tired of hearing words of farewell from others, and had a desire to end her own words before someone else could place their flag on the sand, marking it as theirs.

Whatever the matter was, they both had put the phone down with a smile. 

_ _ _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the support !

___  
her  
___

She leans over his frame, frowning as she starts picking up clothes from the floor. Then, she screams.   
Josh Homme awakes with a start, eyes widened as he rubs his face. He then notices his best friend grinning, and groans. "Go to hell." He mutters, before pulling his pillow over his head and turning around. This was so unlike him. And there was only one reason why.

"Stop. Getting. Drunk!" Everett shrieks, and hits him with another pillow. "You know you can't handle it either, you arse!" She adds, almost begging. An audible sigh escapes from his lips as he sits up, distorted. 

Reluctantly, his eyes meet her concerned ones. Then, they both flicker their gaze to his chest. Josh shakes his head, guilty. "He's my mate, Ever. I didn't want to look like a fool." He gets off the bed, facing away from her. 

Everett frowns even more. "Stop. Stop, right there. If he's someone who judges medical conditions, then he should be damned. How dare he?" Her face grows red, and Josh's does too, except with embarrassment. 

"Alex didn't even know! I'm the one who forced him to swallow down the liquid. I'm sorry." 

She blinks when he mentions the man. Then, she sits down and grunts. "Whatever. Just, stop. You almost died last time." Everett bites her lip, and Josh's phone rings. She shakes her head and escapes her daze. "Right. I should get going. See you around, whenever." 

Josh nods, before taking the call. Everett shuts the door silently behind her. 

\- - -  
guest  
\- - -

"Uh, hello?" A husky voice questions, and Josh yawns. "Hey. Josh Homme here. That old guy you met at a party, supposedly." 

"Hey. This is Miles. Miles Kane?"   
"From the Last Shadow Puppets?" He stammers when Josh doesn't respond.

The alarms ring in Josh's cloudy mind, and he coughs. "Right. Hey, Miles. How's things?" Josh offers. Miles seems to sigh on the other side. "You seen Alex lately? Weren't you at the same party that he was at?" Miles questions bluntly, and this makes Homme frown.

"Uh, Alex. Yeah, I did." 

Miles declines any subtle hint, and continues diving through curiosity. "Was he fine? Drunk? Worried or stressed?"   
Josh laughs, rubbing his face. "Jesus, Miles. Fine- yes. He met a friend of mine, and the pair got on quite well. Drunk? Well, after I took him to some spiffy bar. And no, didn't seem like it." 

Miles exhales uneasily, not sure if he should be comforted by the fact that Alex was fine, or upset, regarding the fact that he just didn't care at all. "Was this friend of yours a girl?" 

Josh grins. "Yeah. A undiscovered wild spirit, really. " He whistles as he looks out the window, and waves at the departing Everett.

Miles shakes his head. Alex, that bisexual asshole. He didn't even know what he was pinning for, but he wish he knew more. "Thanks. Just got worried." Miles laughs, rolling his eyes on the other side dramatically. His and Alex's relationship ended terribly, and he wasn't sure as to what to do next.

Josh waves the situation off. "Anytime. Later, Kane."

The phone-call ends, and no-one speaks of it again.

\- - -  
her  
\- - -

"Fantastic. I'm free. See you in ten, Turner." Everett shakes her hair free, and starts walking the opposite direction.

\- - -


	4. Chapter 4

____  
him  
____

She's wearing a glamorous tuxedo coat. Not the fancy fitted pants, just the upper half.  
And it suits her somehow.

Alex discreetly rubs the stub of his fag on the ashtray and lets it drop, ignoring everything else. He focuses on how her wisps of her hair untuck without permission, and how she has a pencil wedged into her hair.

As if on cue, Everett smiles sheepishly at him, and Alex finds himself smiling back.  
"Interesting weather, innit?" She says, each word escaping her hydrated pink lips somewhat reluctantly.

Alex nods, leaning back again. Everett shifts her feet uncomfortably. She had taken the first step, but now she didn't know what to do with those shoes.  
Alex pulls his scarf tighter around his neck, and he feels his veins visibly. He didn't know what to say next, either.

Suppose that he was pinned as the charming type, yet not a single word left his own, pink, chapped lips.

Lips, lips, lips.

They seem to ease into a comfortable silence, as she warms her hands around her latte, leaning back onto the wall that Alex was on, and snuggling to find a nice position.  
Alex exhales.

"It's not sunny much here." He references, as people walk on by, barely suspecting anything. They ignore the rock-star with the greasy hair, and barely spare a glance towards the oddly-dressed woman.

"Find me in Australia. It's bloody sunny in Winter."

The way she pronounced 'bloody' was exquisite.

Alex chortles. "Australia's uncompromising. I find it uneasy, and so does my skin."

"A Yorkshire lad, eh? Always asking for more heat, yet too much heat is apparently something to avoid." Everett snorts, taking a sip.  
That wasn't a good idea. Alex winces as she splutters the liquid everywhere.

He looks away as he passes her a tissue. Yet, to his surprise, she starts laughing.

Turner raises her eyebrows at her, and this seems to make her laugh even harder. "What the fuck? That was so idiotic. Oh, and everyone's thinking that I'm a downright plonker. I feel like a donkey. Hee-haw." She bubbles, bending over and clutching her stomach.

Alex smiles, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, you shouldn't snort as you consume liquids, Everett."

The humour starts to fade away, but Everett cringes. "Did I get any on you?" She pants, aimlessly wiping splatters away. At-least it didn't leave stains behind, unlike the other influences in her life.

"I'm alright." He seemed rather huffy, but Everett dismissed it as a pretence and carried on. 

"Right. I just- It's been so long since I've met someone new! Golly- is- am I aggravating you or summat?" Ever questions desperately; eyes like a game of Tetris as they slide past his. 

Alex shakes his head, exhaling imaginary smoke to the cloud-polluted skies of the area. "You're fine, and much better than most company." He reassurs, giving the elated response like an over-priced present on Christmas.

Everett wrings her hands, yet nods. She could go from groovy and confident to foolish and premature under the gaze of this man.

"C'mon, then. When was the last time you saw a movie?" 

\- - -  
guest  
\- - -

Miles paces around the room, groaning silently. "So, is he still in California?" He prods, rubbing his tired eyes.  
"Nah. I reckon he moved on, actually." The guy on the phone responds, before a slight forced chuckle erupts from his lips. "Go do your business, you sod." Jamie Cook scolds. It was muffled, so it obviously wasn't meant for Miles. 

The mature-looking man hid a weary sigh, at loss for further words. His mind races through the endless towns and surburbs of America, trying to pin-point a location that Alex would be in.  
"Las Vegas?" He recites, the name still unfamilliar and fresh on his tongue.

Another voice cuts in, a whole new vocal range. "I know I'm not in this, but I can help ya'."  
"Nick? Hell, that'd be great." Miles smiles, for the first time, since the day started.

He had a very complicated emotional world. He could be disdainful and eager at the same time, yet never notice it. A 'softie', as Alex would like to call him.

"You still in Birkenhead, soldier?" Nick reponds, and Kane swallows the lumps in his throat and croaks a decline. "Rotherham."  
Nick hums an acknowledgement. "Well, we're in Leeds, so we'll see you in a few hours."

\- - -  
guest  
\- - -  
"He said he required a break, and simply left?" Jamie chugs down the remains of his beer, as Miles yawns. "Yeah, that'll be the one." Kane agrees. 

"Yep, definitely sounds like Alex." Nick scoffs, rubbing his face. Jamie rolls his eyes at Nick, almost playfully, but Miles doesn't notice. Long hours had been put into this. He honestly did think that perhaps, just maybe, Alex had the same feelings for him. So why did he leave? Why did he get to turn all lamps upside-down, and leave the room in darkness?  
Even if it was unrequited, Miles was getting to the bottom of this. "Josh mentioned a friend that got on well with Alex. I didn't get to know her abouts, but if he went to that party, he surely can't be far from California?"

Nick tuts, rubs his cheek, and shrugs. "Well, assuming that Josh can't add on, because he doesn't know where Alex lives, I guess we could question Everly." He suggests, dim to the light. 

Miles sits straighter. "Everly? Is she the gal?" 

Jamie elbows Nick, and shakes his head. "His closest friend, right? That'd be Everett, not Everly, you elephant."  
Nick rolls his eyes. "Elephants have exceptionally good memory, boy-o." 

Miles chuckles, but nods. "Right." He cracks his knuckles, and stares at the men.  
"Anyone have her number?" 

\- - -


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a chapter that I'm actually proud of?

\- - -  
her  
\- - -

Alex's laughs disguise the solemn silences as they sit in the lone theater. Everett smiles fondly at him, before stuffing another handful of popcorn down her hatch.  
"Needs more butter." She muffles, pieces of corn spraying everywhere. Alex takes another sip of his coffee and starts another Thin Mint (his favourites!). 

And then, her phone rings. 

"Fuck." Everett mutters, and her eyes glint with guilt. "Sorry, should have switched it off."  
Alex Turner waves a dismissal, and settles back further into his seat, oblivious and enjoying himself.  
Since they are alone, Everett answers it anyway.

"Hello?" She sighs, eyes glued to the projected image.  
"Everett?" A husky voice questions. It sounded like the ocean, and rumbled through her ears in the most pleasuring way.

"This is she. Who is speaking?"  
"Miles. Miles Kane. Uh, I'm friends with a man named Alex Turner. Do you know him? I'm awfully worried about him." 

Everett tuts, looking at Alex on cue. She didn't want to disturb his serenity but what if the call was important?

"Yeah, just a second." Everett taps the beautiful man on her left, and covers the earpiece. "Someone's asking for you."

Alex frowns, pats his pockets, and decides that it must be some business. He nods, and the glint of guilt is transferred to his hazel eyes from hers.

He hated burdening people. 

"Thanks." He whispers, and adjusts the object to his own ear. Maybe it was someone that didn't know his new number.

"Alex?" 

Turner could've recognized that voice anywhere. 

Maybe it was someone that he purposefully didn't give his number to.

"I'll be right back." He apologises, and Everett simply smiles in response, resuming the consuming of her popcorn.  
If only life was that easy.

\- - -  
him  
\- - -

"Miles." He husks back. This was oddly arousing. Two hot voices conversing with each-other, and they both felt the tingle in their spine. 

"You're a fucking douchebag." 

Alex inhales deeply, rubbing his temple. "Ah, fuck it. I am, aren't I?" He hangs his head, words barely audible. Miles doesn’t sympathize with him. He was prone to his deliberate soft side.  
“Yes. You are. What the fuck were you thinking, you egocentric arsehole?” Miles exclaims in frustration, kicking something. 

Alex bites his lip, running a hand through his casual hair. He never did quiffs anymore, so he could mess up his hair as much as he liked. He observes other things; like how the movie theatre had a missing letter, and how the bushes outside weren’t trimmed. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Alexander trembles, body seconds away from shaking. He rubs his face in agony. Just because he decided to shut down all memory about his former l- something, it didn’t mean that the wounds weren’t fresh in his mind. 

Seconds pass, and then Miles finally sighs. “Bloody hell, Alex. Just because you can pretend everythin’s fine and dandy, doesn’t mean others aren’t affected by it.” 

Alex shuts his eyes, and lets his body fall onto a bench nearby. “I’m still ‘ere, Miles. I’ll always be. I just- I just needed some time for meself.”

“Fuck. Really, Alex? Are you for real? You needed time? What the fuck? Do you know how many restless nights I ‘ave had, tryin’ to decipher your location? You can’t just leave someone like that, you fucking scumbag.” Miles’s voice hardens, causing the man of interest to heave. 

This was paining him.

“It’s only been two months. There’s no need to worry about me.” 

“Well, for me, it’s been eight weeks. Why couldn’t you just tell me?” Miles begs, and for the moment, Alex wants nothing more than to catch the next flight home and to envelope him in his arms, and feel his warm body against his. 

When Turner doesn’t answer, Miles sighs breezily again. He didn’t even have to speak, but Alex could tell that he had gone all distant from him. 

“Alright. Sorry for wasting your time, Turner. Goodbye.” 

He fumbles for words, looks up at the sky, clenches his fists, and gulps. He had to-  
Actually, there was no point.  
Because Miles had long since hung up.

\- - -  
her  
\- - -  
Ever smiles worriedly at him when he returns, but doesn’t question it. She pockets the phone Alex hands back, and when their fingers touch for the briefest second, and electricity shoots up her veins, Alex looks away, and crushes her hope.  
He acted like he didn’t care about anything at all, and she didn’t know why.

“Alex, you alright?” She asks, at the edge of the warm, red seat that was the cause of escapism whenever someone sat on it. 

Alex locks his eyes with hers for the longest time, before rubbing his neck. “Actually, I’m not in the mood for a movie at all.”

Everett stares at him, lips positioned to release a strong argument. But he doesn’t give her time to speak. Instead, he quirks his lips upwards apologetically, and walks away, slinging his jacket around his body. 

Everett stays still for a few moments, not believing anything that happened. It was all so hasty and arbitrary. But when she realises he won’t come back and laugh at her for being a gullible fool, she too, stands up and ignores the projecting film that hadn’t been finished. Her boots trod on the soft carpet that was vulnerable to stains, and then, she leaves.

 

___  
Him  
___

The wind slaps his face as his hair flies everywhere. His tight-fitted pants cling to his legs, and his boots seem to make him rush. To other people; he just looked like an oddly hot man, rushing to work or wherever. 

But the curtained fact was that he was an arsehole. Someone who broke hearts almost as often as he exchanged pleasantries. And that was backed up. Because every time he exchanged pleasantries; over-suggestive pleasantries, then he was bound to hurt Miles. 

And he hated himself for that.

He swipes his phone out of his jacket pocket, where he misplaced it earlier, and presses familiar buttons.  
“Josh, I’m leaving for a couple of days. Has anyone named Miles called you?” A frown is etched on his face, almost as if it was set in concrete and left to air-dry.

Josh yawns, but responds. “Yeah, just this morning, actually.” 

Alex didn’t know what he expected, but the recent fact made his heart swell. 

“Alright. See you in a few days.” 

This new landscape left him to only a few reliance’s. Only a few friends. And hence, those particular friends were informed of his every movement, purposefully.  
He manages to flag down a cab, and wipes off his sunglasses. He nods at the driver. “It’d be great if you could drop me off at the nearest airport.” He smiles, and the driver acknowledges his request, respectfully.

\- - -  
There was despair in the departure lounge. Last-minute calls and odd pacing around the arrays of uncomfortable seats. Alex glued his eyes to the local news on the telly, and then, his flight was called out.

The same sense of euphoria filled him. Similar to the essence that was rehearsed before a gig or a concert, but this was much stronger. Enchanting paranoia, as he called it.

Alex smiles at the flight attendant, who promised to maximise his protection. Unless she brought out the condoms, that wasn’t to be happening soon.

All things aside, no-one recognized the man.  
He re-equips his sunnies again, and ignores the recent phone-calls from a woman named Everett. 

\- - -  
him  
\- - -  
The whiff of Yorkshire always made him feel at home. Yet, he was still nervous as he knocked on Miles’s door. 

When the man swings the door open, he doesn’t show any surpise. Instead, he raises his eyebrows. 

“ ’ow’ve you been? I know that it’s been a long time, but-“ Alex bites his lip, desperately, all confidence and adrenaline sizzling away and escaping down the drain.

Miles hums. “Hi, Alex.”  
Alexander rubs his cheek, now noticing the time. It was past midnight, surely. The route to get here all passed as a blur. 

“I’m sorry.” With the apology, he embraces Miles. Miles seems reluctant, and freezes, but then his hands inch up towards Alex’s back. 

“I missed you.” Miles muffles, head hanging off Alex’s [short] frame. Alex snuggles into Miles’s collar-bone, and echoes a reply in a tiny voice.  
The hug lasts for quite a few minutes, before they shuffle into the house, doing their own limbo. Miles shuts the door behind them, and they both stare at each other, unsure to what was to come.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fluff warning?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh, I’m really sorry because I’ve reread my whole work and there’s many hidden errors, but I just can’t find time to fix them- so if you could ignore them, and jump over them, that’s be amazing. 
> 
> without further ado;

____  
him  
____  
Alex breathes in the aroma of lavender and cookies, possibly one of his most favourite smells in the world. 

“Let’s talk about this.” Miles suggests, hinting a softer tone. Alex bites his lip, rubs the back of his neck, messes up his hair even more, but complies the request.  
They take a seat on Miles’s soft leather settee, and Alex gazes up at those eyes he always got lost in. 

“Why did ye’ leave?” Miles questions suddenly. There was no beating around the bush for this man.  
Alex inhales deeply, eyes transfixed on to a painting that they had bought together from an antique store. 

“I was overwhelmed. I ‘ad to. There was too much happening at once. The gigs, the confusing relationship, and everything. I despise living in the dark, and I couldn’t take it anymore.” Alex tucks his hands in his pockets to stop them from shaking, and looks at the wrinkles of the sofa to distract himself.

Miles releases a shaky sigh, causing Turner to look up. “Well – “  
The mechanical suspense makes them both pause, before Miles clears his throat, confirming their thoughts. 

“We might not be the perfect partners-“ Miles quotes, smiling at Turner.   
Alex smiles softly in return.   
“But tonight, we make a pair.” The man with gelled hair whispers, referencing to the third verse of the acoustic version of Crying Lightning.

With that, they lunge at each other and lock their lips, almost desperate.   
Miles rakes his fingers through the hair he loves, and Alex traces the back of his lover’s neck. Their tongues seem to fight for domination, keeping them on the edge of the universe.

“Remember cuddles in the kitchen, yeah,” Alex wisps into Miles’s soft lips, seconds away from a fit of laughter.   
“I can still remember when your city smelt exciting.” Miles replies, kissing Alex’s eyelids softly, pulling him closer. They felt like teenagers again, and suddenly, nothing was confusing as it all used to be.  
The settee was their world. Their shelter. Their safe place. 

They cuddle each other, and Alex rubs his recently-shaved, smooth jawline, on Miles’s cheek, eyes shut.   
“You’re quite the lovely.” Alex murmurs, locking his hands with Miles’s. Miles laughs, rubbing his jaw. 

But then, just like how all great things end faster than you can correctly pronounce ‘knife’ for the first time, the phone rings.


	7. Chapter 7

____  
guest  
____  
Alex grunts, and whilst Miles knows that it was for another reason, it was still the most sexiest sound he’d ever heard.  
Miles breathes deeply, ignoring the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Alex sits back on the settee, yawning from all the exhaustion.

“You should go to Bedfordshire.” Miles scolds, before answering his cell.  
“Hello?” He trails, unknowing.

There’s some muffled whispers on the other side, before the person coughs. “Miles, Alex is already in a relationship with a lass named Everett.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry, but I won't be adding on for a while, because some stuff happened at school during the creation of this chapter, and has deeply scarred me. I've barely the guts to even publish this, but, I promise, the next chapter will be a literal, big bang.
> 
> Sorry for no regard of satisfaction.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> terribly sorry about the delay! expect daily updates <3
> 
> without further ado;

Miles tries to process the sentence that was layed before him, but Alex comes up behind him and nibbles Miles's earlobe, making it almost impossible for him to focus.  
He pushes Alex away distractedly, before looking him in the eye. Alex raises his eyebrows, but his shoulders falter in nerves.

"Who's Everett?" Miles proceeds to press the End button on the call, and crosses his arms, outraged.  
Alex opens his mouth before shutting it promptly, wondering how to start.  
"She's the one ya' called to ask for me?" He winces, rubbing his neck.  
He did that quite often.

Miles rolls his eyes, something Alex thought he could never do, and sprawls back on the settee, under the 'calm' pretence.  
This freaked Alex out. It was something everyone expected from the 'collected' Alex Turner, but when Miles did it, it addled his mind.  
Like a school-boy asking for trouble, the man stood there, arms limp by his side. 

Miles tilts his head, and Alex inhales deeply.  
"Alright, I only met 'er, like, this week. We were watchin' a film when ya' called, tha' knows? Anyway, she's not someone to be talking about now. Like, she's spiffy and all, but I can't fathom why you're asking me this, especially on such a level." Alex hums, stifling a yawn. He really did need that nap.

Miles rubs his eyes. "You're in a relationship, I presume?"  
Alex widens his tired pupils, curious. "What?" He grins, thinking of it all as a banter.  
Miles coughs. "You are?"  
"I am?" Turner trails, massaging his temples.  
"Answer the fucking question, Alex." He spits, disengaging their hi eye-contact. Alex gulps visibly and shakes his head.

"I'm not. Well, isn't that what everyone says when they cover something? But, I'm actually, really not. 'owever, the gal might find that offensive? So, all due respect, and everything, but I'm not." Alex huffs, looking away himself.

Miles stands up. He was sick of this shit. "Fuck, Alex. All you do is talk in riddles and expect me to understand your shit. Well, I don't. Go fuck yourself, scumbag." Miles retorts, giving Alex one last look over the shoulder before he walks out the house and shuts the door to their relationship.  
\- - -  
Alex stares longingly at the door, before he realises that quite a few moments have passed, and that this wasn't a drill.  
Miles was gone.

He checks his cell, ignoring the business calls, and returns the call that Everett left him.  
"Hello?" A worried voice greets. Alex focuses on the abandoned biology textbooks on a shelf, a start of a new occupation, perhaps. He wants to touch and run his fingers over those books, feel the warmth that Miles left behind.

"Still 'ere." Alex replies, scratching the back of his neck again.  
"Why do you always reply with something witty? I've never heard you greet the phone like a regular contributor." Everett laughs nervously.

Alex chortles. " 'ello?' Nah. It makes me sound like I have dementia, like I don't know who's calling and what's going to happen."  
"You and your philosophies." Everett hums, distracted. Alex waits for the bait. The stick he could hold on to. "What happened?"  
There it was.

Alex shrugs. "Just popped back to see an old friend." The words hang off his tongue carelessly, the notion of lying so superior. Everett aahs' and oos' in understanding, and Alex takes this as a gesture to trudge forward.

"Alright, lassie, is there anyone that despises you?" He murmurs, a throbbing in his forehead. He rubs the tender spot and winces.  
"I- What? No. None that I know of." Everett fumbles like a fish out of water.  
The throbbing in his head grows worse by two.  
"Someone claimed that we were in a-" He opens his mouth to continue, but he can't find the energy to.  
" 'In a' what, Alex?"  
Alex tries to form some sort of word, but he slumps back on to the sofa, realising he was drugged. "Alex?" Everett exclaims, hearing his heavy breathing.  
And then, the world goes dark.  
_ _ _  
her  
\- - -  
Everett hangs up, avoiding further expenses that Alex might face. She paces around her small flat, wringing her hands, unsure of what to do.

Then, she summons a deep breath, and rings a man.

"Hello? Miles, I know this is too much to ask for but-"

"Everett? Oh feck' off, ya slag." The other side is drunk, woozy even.  
Everett bites her lip even harder. "Please. Alex is unconscious or summat. I don't know what happened."  
"What?" Miles toughens up, and Everett breathes in relief. Nothing like an emergency to make someone sober.  
"Alex passed out, and I don't know why. You've got to go to him." The woman cries, isolated in an apartment in some state of America.

There's some muffled whispers before Miles hums a reply and hangs up on her. Touché, but Ever had to take whatever she could get. Hopefully, Alex would be alright. She rubs her hands reassuringly, and stares at the same moon that he would be staring at when he awoke in a few hours.  
___


End file.
